Wandering in Darkness of Memories
by mist shadow
Summary: They won the War, and everything went back to what it was. But why do the visions of friends dead haunt me? Why does it feel like I am blind?  #not mine, just translated


**A/N: Not my work, I just translated it with permission of the original author. To read the original story, written in Russian please follow the author's link given below. To see the picture drawn for this fic, pls follow the link to the artist's page on Devianart**

**Author: [Chimera] www(dot)diary(dot)ru(slash)~Chimera-chan(slash)p133707515(dot)htm **

**Artist: [AnHellica] anhellica(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)gallery/23690553#(slash)d35b2c6 **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite. The story and crazy idea belongs to Chimera. My only belongings are an account on the site, and the translation. Cheers**

**On to the story:**

_-Kurosaki…_

_Bright flash, sudden darkness and a hand mechanically pressed to the face. There is something on the skin, something viscous and cold and a pungent smell instantly hits the nose._

_"Blood"_

_There is no pain, only a shivering, as if in a fever, body and the only remaining thought that forces not to take the hands off the face._

_«My eyes!»_

_The young man takes a deep breath and calms, straightening, and tries to look round, but can't raise his eyelids: he sees only blackness, or more precisely, doesn't see anything at all._

_Fingers nervously pass over a deep cut: an accurate straight line from temple to temple, like a bloody hoop on the eyes impossible to take off. The nose bridge is shattered in a crumb. Blood flows down the cheeks in burning lines, reaching the chin and falling to the ground in garnet drops. There is a taste of iron on the lips, and only darkness around._

_Now instead of shock comes the fear and a pain, but the scream is stuck in the throat._

XXX

- Kurosaki, - Ishida sounds worried.

Exhaling sharply, Ichigo looks at the schoolmate in surprise. Currently, they are sitting and having a lunch break.

«Hallucinations and this pain. Again …»

- Kurosaki? – Again asks Uryu.

Chad that sits next to him is silent and steadfastly looks at his friend.

- Yes, – Stay at ease, just like that, as always, - Everything's fine, I was simply lost in thought.

The guy quickly rises to avoid superfluous questions and leaves the school roof.

- And I didn't ask whether you are well, - Ishida's voice, growing more silent with each taken step, - But I will believe you... Again.

Ichigo enters through a door and leans his back on a cold wall of a staircase.

- What's wrong with me now? Why again? – hands on his face, his fingers rub his eyelids, trying to ease the pulsing pain. A couple of seconds, and the muddy visage swims back into normal clear quality, - I can see, its fine…

The young man began recalling the past too often, or more precisely, seeing some kind of an alternative ending of the war with late Lord of Huego Mundo. He didn't talk to anybody about it for a long time, but when the pictures started getting accompanied with pain, and after a while with a short-term blindness, Kurosaki finally went to Urahara.

The dealer in the usual manner, covering his face with a fan, has informed him that at he was simply stressed with the events that had occurred and that it all should pass by itself soon, when the youth returns to the routine of his school life. But nevertheless gave Ichigo a suspicious jar with color pills in the end, insisting to take them no less than two times a day.

The pills really helped, true, but not for long. Even the increased dosage hasn't improved the situation, on the contrary... The pain and fear redoubled as if taking revenge on Kurosaki for attempting to get rid of them. But it was obviously not enough, as now together with them the hallucinations came...

The young man never went back to Urahara.

XXX

-Kurosaki-kun…

Ichigo turns around hearing the familiar voice. A young girl with grey eyes full of hope stands in front of him. Strange thoughts come: why is she smiling? After all, her long auburn hair is colored muddy red, frail body looks more like a broken puppet: there is no piece of skin that is untouched with injuries; blood is covering the white clothes, and her hand dangling freely…

-Kurosaki-kun, - the girl calls him again. – What's wrong? You paled.

The young man blinked.

-No, Inoue, everything's fine, - he looks away, to concentrate a little, but he still hears the girl's scream, full of pain.

Orihime looks at him suspiciously for another minute, but after a while, unable to do anything, she leaves for class. She is in a clean, recently ironed school uniform.

XXX

They say that you can't feel anything when you sleep, but Ichigo doesn't believe that for a long time. After all, in the dreams, HE comes.

Rage and hatred boil in his soul, when the young man feels his presence, when the man's fingers authoratively touch the orange locks, and Kurosaki cannot do anything: his body doesn't listen to him, as if it's pressed down to the bed with the huge reiatsu of the ex-Captain. But it's not so. He can't feel any spiritual power, only that with every movement, with every caress of the ex-Lord the anxiety leaves, he feels light and calm, as if that's how it should be. But there's still no strength, and the feeling of rightness drives the young man spare.

Ichigo can't see. And it's not because it's the middle of the night outside, no. He simply knows that he is blind. Knows. Nothing more. There is denial, no will to fight for a second week. Resignation and gradually dying hatred - that's all that he has left.

Aizen doesn't do anything else in his dreams, just strokes his hair and face, sometimes whispering something, but the young man cannot hear most of his talks.

He still remembers the satisfied and confident expression on Sousuke's face, when he gave a speech in the skies of Karakura addressed to the substitute shinigami. Remembers, as the hatred doesn't allow to forget, as well as the daily hallucinations don't allow to erase the ex-Lord from his memory.

-Kurosaki-kun, I can help you cope with the memories, if you want?..

He heard this somewhere before…

XXX

Why is the executed enemy pursuing him in his thoughts? Why does he see death of his friends? Why the events from his life pass in front of his eyes in a completely different light? Why?... Questions flow like a never ending stream, but right now he has no time for them: he still needs to get ready for the school and hide dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep.

The sounds of running water, drops sparkling in the light and a tired face, staring at him from the mirror. Ichigo is already used to it, after all, it's much more pleasant that the muzzle of the white-haired creature, that hasn't shown up since the last battle. The battle that ended, but still didn't give him peace…

Rukia tried to help. You could see it in her gestures and her glances. But what for? After all, each of her appearances in the young man's line of sight led to too vivid images...

There she comes up to him, leaving behind a red trail flowing from her pierced chest. He already accepts it, almost… If only a strong scent of blood didn't hit his nose, and her eyes weren't so glassy, the young man could have ignored the whole situation, but…

-Ichigo, maybe you want to tell us something?

A question she asks every day, trying to smooth of hair with arm that was already cut off.

- No, I don't have anything to tell, - Kurosaki takes a deep breath and massages the bridge of his nose. He doesn't like touching his face, but constantly does it mechanically, touching the unevenly healed skin every time, trying to find the already shattered cartilage.

-Really, - he finally smiles, when the surroundings settle down.

-Ichigo, - she repeats again, - "if you ever decide to share your thoughts or feelings, I will always listen to you.

-Of course.

Rukia, same as all of his friends, turns around and walks away, leaving Kurosaki alone. Yes, this way is better.

XXX

_He didn't know where the strike came from: from allies or enemies? But at that time there was only one target – the bundle of monstrous reiatsu, which pressed on him harder due to loss of eyesight. A stroke of a katana and his last __attack, which was supposed to put an end to this war._

_The hand trembled when swiping off the blood that stained the lips and made it hard to breath, flowing into his mouth. Spiting another red lump, the young man readjusted the grip on his zanpaktou, and stroked, turning it towards the black reiatsu._

_That was the exact moment when the events that were replayed too often in front of his eyes contradicted each other._

XXX

-Ichi-nii, let's go play, - younger sister runs up to the young man with a carefree smile.

She brings a band. The young man calmly bends down, to make it easier for the girl to fasten a knot on his nape. He opens his eyes, but the fabric tightly wound around his face doesn't allow see anything, bringing discomfort. A chill goes down his back, making Ichigo shiver from an inquisitive gaze. Kurosaki sharply rises tearing off a bandage with a sharp gesture, and turns around. For some reason, memories of snow-white columns and infinitely long hall come to mind, and the young man tries to peer into silhouettes standing at the very outskirts of the premise... Nothing. Everything is as it was... All is how it should be.

XXX

And the Lord continued smiling, observing, as the blind ryoka – his "battle trophy" and eternal captive follows through all the throne-room of Las Noches after a faceless numeros, calling it by the name of his late sister Yuzu.

Tonight he will visit the boy in his personal quarters to once again offer him the sense of calm in exchange for the memoirs that torment the soul of his dear "guest" so.

XXX

A silent rustle of snow-white curtains. Kurosaki already dozed off, believing that he is in his room in the World of the Living.

Foolish boy that decided to stand against a God. Now, he is but a toy in his hands. A toy which desperately struggled, but has stumbled at the last minute.

The only thing Aizen regretted about was to never again see the brilliance of determination in the once brown eyes: Gotei tried to protect the substitute shinigami from the influence of hypnosis of Kyoka Suigetsu. Even paying in the boy's sight... Even when the danger of it was equal to zero...

The young man frowns as usual. He has woken up. He feels him.

The Lord slowly approaches the bed and carefully sits down on its edge. There is no need to hurry: Kurosaki won't escape. The only things holding him here now are his own curiosity, fear and illusions that the ryoka has created himself, trying to shy away from a reality which pressed on him with heavy memories.

- Your memory of the past came back to you again, - the ex-captain calmly states.

He knows that Ichigo doesn't hear him because he doesn't want to hear, because his heart can't accept what had actually happened.

The blind boy who had lost... No, not to his illusions, but to his own that he carefully, imperceptible even for himself, built, protecting himself from the cruel reality. Kurosaki naively believed what he himself has constructed: he hasn't gone blind, and has won together with Gotei 13, by killing the enemy, and saving all, that are dear to him... All those who are now resting in the remains of Karakura.

The hand lies down on the orange hair as usual, lightly toying with the locks. For some reason Sousuke liked doing it, and the ryoka relaxed considerably.

Another attempt. Another favor from victorious God.

- Kurosaki-kun, I can help you to cope with memories, if you want?..


End file.
